It had been two months since Tyler Dayspring had freed me from that horrible room. He'd told me my name was Jack; that was all.

Then who is Wade Wilson?

According to Tyler, I'd been working for him for some time before this. I was a former Special Forces operative, but after coming back from Afghanistan, I'd become a mercenary.

He said I'd been approached for something called Weapon X. Apparently, it was a secret government project attempting to duplicate a serum of some sort- one that'd been developed during World War II and successfully used on a weak, skinny soldier named Steve Rogers. Amazingly, Rogers was transformed into a perfect human specimen- the peak of physical perfection. Many times, people had tried to recreate this "supersoldier serum", but all attempts had failed.

So far.

I'd been rejected from Weapon X. Considered a failure. Left in that room to die.

But now, here I was, alive and well.

I didn't know why Tyler had set me free if I was a failure. When he'd gotten me out, he'd blindfolded me, led me to a car, and drove somewhere. I'd let him, hoping he knew what he was doing; hoping he'd help me.

Well, I had started to feel better. My face was still scarred, but eventually I began the process of resuming a life I didn't know I'd had. Tyler had me train for combat, but when I started doing so I realized I already had the skills.

Because I was ex-Special Forces.

But now I was a mercenary.

I was rather startled when Tyler had told me what I was. It didn't seem to click- I didn't know a lot about myself, but I never thought I would have made a living of killing people.

But that's what you were, a voice in my head told me. That's what you are.

I tried to shake the thought free. No, no, I wasn't that. Tyler was lying. He had to be.

But it kept persisting, trying to convince me. You're a killer, Jack. Face it.

I didn't want it to be true, but as far as I knew, it was.

-deadpool-deadpool-deadpool-

Tyler Dayspring watched with satisfaction as "Jack" left for his assignment. The poor man would never know, would always live this tortured existence.

Tyler had figured it would only be proper to assign his asset a name. One that would be recognized and feared throughout the world.

The man hadn't discovered it yet, but he had some very interesting powers. Tests had confirmed that, although he was thought to be a failure, although he was placed in the discard room, the project had had a rather unexpected but very useful side effect.

Whenever wounded, his tissue regenerated so fast that it was nearly instantaneous healing. He was harder to kill than any man on earth.

All the drugs had combined, pooled, to make a nearly invincible assassin.

Deadpool.

The new supersoldier.

But unlike Rogers, he wouldn't be a hero.

Tyler would make sure of that.